The Birthday Present 2/7 (mf, b&d, cons)



The next morning I had Swimmer fix me breakfast, and I told her about my 
plans for the upcoming week.  We would stay in and play on the weekend, 
but I would have to go to class during the week.  Swimmer was permitted 
to attend lectures, but only if it did not conflict with my 
requirements.  At night she would sleep with me in my bed, if we got 
around to sleeping.  Swimmer listened attentively, and asked me about 
disciplining her.

"What will happen if I do something wrong, sir?"

"That will depend on what you do.  You’ll probably be spanked, but if 
it’s really bad, I might move up to a belt, or maybe even a crop.  Or, I 
might think of something else, if you deserve a special punishment."

"And what actions are wrong, sir?"

I thought about it.  "If you fail to do what I say immediately, if you 
question my actions, if you talk back.  There may be other occasions.  I 
don’t want to make rigid rules right now.  You’d just find some way to 
get around them."

I finished my breakfast and took the plate to the sink.  Swimmer went to 
wash it, but I stopped her and told her that I wanted a blowjob.  
Without a word, she dropped to her knees and undid my pants.  Pulling my 
cock out, she began to stroke it until it became somewhat firm.  She 
placed it in her mouth and began to suck gently as she rubbed the 
underside of the head with her tongue.  She pushed her head down, taking 
about four inches of me into her mouth, then drew her head back, 
creating a suction.  I didn’t last long from this, and I came with a 
rush into her mouth.  Swimmer swallowed my come and continued to suck, 
making sure to get any come that didn’t come out in the first few shots.  
It felt wonderful, and when she finally tucked me back inside my pants, 
I was still very firm.

The first thing I did after breakfast was to go with Swimmer to her 
place to pick up her clothes.  She stood by and watched as I went 
through her drawers and closet, pulling out pieces of clothing that I 
thought would look sexy on her.  I wanted to get more than a week’s 
worth of clothes:  She would definitely need a change on hand if 
anything got torn or stained.  Unfortunately, Swimmer didn’t have 
anything that was overtly sexy:  There were lots of short shorts and 
cotton underwear, but no miniskirts or lingerie.  I selected what I 
could find, and then we drove to the mall to get the remainder of what 
we needed.

We stopped by Victoria’s Secret first, and bought a selection of teddies 
and panties that I felt would suit her well.  I wanted to have Swimmer 
model them for me, but when I tried to go into the changing room with 
her, the saleslady gave me a dark look.  I kept myself in check, and 
decided that I would have a private modeling session later.

Our next stop was at Hot Topic, but we only ended up buying a couple of 
spandex miniskirts there.  As Swimmer’s master, I felt obliged to pay 
half the bill, and everything I saw there looked overpriced.  I knew of 
a place that sold sexier outfits at a better price, and stocked more 
accessories, too.  It was this store, The Fox’s Den, that we went to 
last.  The Fox’s Den was an adult clothing and novelty store located 
just over the town line, and it was there that Monica and I did our 
shopping for our own sex life.  Much to my delight, The manager there 
had no problems with Swimmer modeling his minidresses in the store.  
Every time she came out of the changing room in a new outfit, the men 
who huddled around the movie racks would try to ogle her up when she 
wasn’t looking.  Swimmer knew this, and by the time she came out in her 
third dress her face was flushed red, and her hard nipples were outlined 
by the thin black material.

I chose two of the dresses, then took her over to the leather goods 
display.  The window also included other necessities for the 
discriminating libertine.  These items could not be modeled by Swimmer, 
but we were allowed to examine some of them under the eye of the 
manager.  I selected a pair of leather cuffs with a quick-release strap 
and an inverted strap-on dildo.  "No nipple clamps?" Swimmer asked.  I 
shook my head.  "You’ll borrow Monica’s."  Swimmer looked unsure of 
herself.  "I’ll—I mean, may I buy my own set by myself?  I may need them 
after the week is up."  How could I refuse?  She selected a pair of 
vice-type clamps, and we left with our purchases.

We returned to my apartment, and I had Swimmer model her new dresses for 
me.  I put on some dance music as she changed, and when she came out of 
the room she did a sexy dance in each article of clothing.  Each time 
she would come up to me, and I would run my hand up her thigh and under 
her skirt, checking to see what she was wearing underneath.  Sometimes 
she wore her new lingerie, sometimes she wore her bikini panties, and 
sometimes she wore nothing at all.  It depended on the outer dress, 
really.

When she was done with the show, I beckoned her over and took her on the 
couch, being careful to remove her new clothes.  I almost entered her, 
but decided that would be saved for tonight, amid more comfortable 
surroundings.  Instead, I had her give me another incredible blowjob, 
then told her to sit still as I ate her out.  She was dripping wet and 
musky, having been in an almost constant state of arousal since that 
morning.  When she came, it was a powerful shudder of relief.

Swimmer may have planned her time out beforehand, but I hadn’t, and I 
had work to do.  I decided to recuperate by going to some office to do 
some research.  As I would be gone most of the afternoon, I gave Swimmer 
the option of returning to her dorm, or staying at my place to tidy it 
up.  To be honest, I actually needed a maid right then more than I 
needed a slave.  She said she would stay at my apartment, and asked when 
I would be back so she could prepare dinner.  Impressed, I told her I’d 
be back at seven, and left to do work.

When I got to my office, I saw that most of my desk was covered by a 
huge flowergram.  A small note was attached to the bouquet:  "Dear Jeff:  
I’m so sorry I couldn’t be here for your birthday.  I hid two of your 
presents behind the desk before I left, and another one should arrive 
tomorrow.  I can’t wait to see you again.  Love Monica."  I looked 
behind my desk and discovered two gift-wrapped boxes.  Inside one was a 
framed photo of Monica and I at a formal dance, looking very beautiful 
and very much in love.  The other present was a book that I had been 
interested in, intending to wait until it came out in paperback: "The 
Demon-Haunted World", by Carl Sagan.  I smiled to myself.  Monica hated 
to feel inconsiderate, and she was going way out of her way to make sure 
I wouldn’t hate her.  I thought about Swimmer, and wondered if I could 
find someone to be a similar gift back to Monica, if I ever had to go 
away for a while.  Maybe Swimmer herself would do.

I put the flowergram and presents aside and set down to do my research 
for the afternoon.  By 6:00, I’d gotten what I needed done.  I actually 
could have finished by 4:00, if thoughts of Swimmer didn’t keep popping 
into my head.  Thinking about sex when you’re pouring through secondary 
sources on the 1940’s labor movements is just not productive.  I tucked 
my flowers and presents under my arm and left.

I was expecting some sort of food, and a somewhat clean apartment when I 
returned, but I was shocked when I walked through the door.  Swimmer had 
not just tidied, she’d stopped a bit short of actually renovating the 
place.  I could see her line of thinking just by looking at it.  First, 
she had taken all my papers that I had left strewn all over the floor, 
stacked them into neat little piles, and placed the piles in nearby 
corners or shelves, so that everything was within 10 feet of where I 
left it, but a lot more organized.  Once she’d done the papers, she 
would have done some vacuuming.  She’d finished with vacuuming, and 
decided that my couch and chairs were all out of whack, so she’d next 
moved all my furniture around so that it created a kind of closed 
"conversation" space, with a trio of my milk crates serving as a central 
coffee table.  Having finished that, She’d gone around and actually 
*dusted* my apartment.  I didn’t have any furniture oil.  She had to 
have gotten it from the building attendants.  Now I could hear her in 
the kitchen, making what smelled like a chicken stew.

Swimmer heard me come in, and came walking out of the kitchenette.  
"Sir, you’re home!"  My jaw dropped.  She was wearing a microdress from 
The Fox’s Den.  It was a one-piece unit of black lycra that was 
stretched between her shoulders and her hips.  There were two large 
holes cut in the sides, exposing the sides of her midriff.  She looked 
like she should have been in a rock-and-roll video instead of my 
kitchen.  While I was staring, she said, "The food is still cooking, but 
it will be ready in about 10 minutes.  I’m sorry it’s stew, sir.  I 
didn’t know if I was allowed to go shopping for food."

"No, that’s all right.  There’s no problem with that."  I was still in a 
state of shock.  I started to walk away, but Swimmer stayed where she 
was, looking at me.  "You can go finish now, Swimmer."  She turned and 
walked back to her cooking.

I walked over to my bedroom and peeked in.  My bed had been neatly made, 
and all the clothes on my floor were gone, possibly into the wash.  
Swimmer’s toys and restraints were lined up on the night table, ready 
for use.  I took a closer look, and saw some of Monica’s things mixed in 
with Swimmer’s.  She must have cleaned the closets as well to find 
Monica’s bag.  Monica had intentionally hidden her stash of toys under 
several strata of my junk, reasoning that no normal person would look 
there.  Unfortunately for Monica’s plans, Swimmer was not a normal 
person.  Right now, she seemed more like June Cleaver crossed with 
Pauline Reage.

I left my bag and presents in the bedroom and carried the flowers from 
Monica into the kitchen.  Even Swimmer had been unable to make my green 
formica table any classier, but I could but the flowers in a glass of 
water to make a nice centerpiece.  Swimmer was taking the stew off the 
stove, and saw me prepare the glass.  "Where are those from, sir?"  I 
smiled and said "They came from Monica.  She put them in my office, 
along with some other presents."  She stiffened a bit, but said nothing.  
I looked at her.  "Is something wrong, Swimmer?"  She shook her head, 
and carried the pot to the table.

The stew was surprisingly good.  The chicken had come from an attempt of 
mine to make drumsticks three days ago, but I had undercooked it, and it 
had come out awful.  Swimmer had put the flesh into the pot, along with 
some diced potatoes, added some curry powder and bullion, and let the 
mix boil until the chicken had completely cooked.  I sat down to eat.  
Swimmer poured the stew into my bowl, then stood by my side.

"Aren’t you going to sit down?"  She looked at me.  "I have permission 
to eat with you?"  "Of course.  You made it.  And why should I have you 
eat somewhere else if it meant not looking at you in that dress?"  
Swimmer blushed slightly as she opened a cupboard to get a bowl of her 
own.  When she came back to eat, she avoided eye contact with me, and 
made sure that she always took less than what I had.  I had played 
dominance games before, but never had I met someone who seemed to want 
to be so completely submissive.  This was the first time I’d been 
dominant over a complete stranger, and I realized how uncomfortable it 
was making me.  I didn’t know the first thing about what she liked, or 
was comfortable with.  She hadn’t rebelled yet, so I assumed that I was 
still doing everything right.

Swimmer took a large slurp of her stew, and a glob of it fell on her 
dress.  Before she could do anything about it, I told her to let me take 
care of it, and rubbed my napkin over the swell of her bodice.  The food 
was beginning to stain in, so I lowered my head and cleaned the food off 
of her dress with my tongue.  Swimmer started to move when I did this, 
but I told her to sit still.  She remained perfectly still, but was 
breathing hard as I licked her breasts through the cheap cloth of her 
dress.  When I was finished, I toweled off her dress with my napkin, 
going out of the way to run it across her hard nipples.  I looked in her 
eyes and said "You’re welcome, Swimmer."  "Oh!"  She had broken 
character as I cleaned her off.  "Thank you sir."

I may have been unfamiliar with what she wanted, but I knew enough to 
let her wash the dishes after we finished.  I retired to the living room 
to search through my CD rack.  I wanted Swimmer to give me a strip tease 
in that dress, but I didn’t want the dance music I had played that 
afternoon.  I found just the thing:  A Billy Idol compilation album.  
When Swimmer came out from the kitchen, I put in the CD, then told her I 
wanted her to do a strip tease for me.  She looked a little uncertain on 
how to start, but as the opening bass line of "White Wedding" came on, 
she began to move with the music, and from there the rest came 
naturally.

She started off by dancing normally, like she might have done at the 
frat party the previous night.  She moved beyond that style pretty 
quickly, making more sensual movements and sliding her hands up her 
front to cup her breasts.  She ran her hands over her body in ways I 
hadn’t realized I wanted to do.  She slid her hands from her breasts 
down her sides, to the two holes in her dress.  Swaying to the music, 
she plunged her hands into the holes and down to her crotch.  Her hands 
were hidden, but I could see well enough that she was enjoying herself.  
She danced like that for a while, then pulled her hands out of her 
dress.  I could see that some of her fingers were wet, and as she put 
her hand to her lips, she began to pull up the hem of her dress.  As she 
flashed her panties at me, she stuck out her tongue and licked her 
juices off her fingers.  My cock ached when she did this, and I had to 
adjust myself before I came in my pants.

She danced over to me, turned around, and sank to the floor, presenting 
her zipper to me.  I grabbed it and started to pull, but she stopped me, 
and held my hand still.  Then, as I held on to the zipper, she slowly 
stood up, allowing the dress to unzip itself as her body pulled it up.  
She danced away and stood with her back to me, her hands wrapped around 
her body.  She turned her head and looked into my eyes, then began to 
slither her body to the music.  As she danced, she started to pull the 
dress off, exposing her strong back.  When she turned around, the top of 
the dress was bunched up around her breasts.  Still dancing, she began 
to let go of a little of the fabric at a time, until there was only a 
scrap of clothing covering her nipples.  She cupped her hands over her 
breasts, then lifted the bottoms of her palms, so the dress completely 
fell away from her top and left her bare breasts covered by her hands.

Swimmer flashed a grin as she saw the effect this dance had on me.  My 
dick was straining against my jeans, but I was afraid to touch it, 
thinking that any new stimulus might set me off.  She squeezed and 
lifted her naked breasts, and opened her palms a bit to let me peek at 
the nipples.  With a final pinch, she pulled her hands completely away 
from her breasts, and I watched them hang free in all their glory.  She 
lifted her arms above her head and danced a while longer, showing off 
her top a little more before she got to her bottom.

The song ended, and she dropped her arms, waiting for the next one to 
begin.  I took the opportunity to unbutton my jeans to give my cock some 
relief.  The music started up again, and she grabbed the folds of cloth 
that were bunched around her waist.  She bent towards me and ground her 
hips as she slowly pulled the dress down over her thighs.  She stood up 
and let the fabric fall to her feet.  Dressed in only bright green 
panties, she stepped out of the dress and kicked it aside.  She spun 
around a couple of times and adopted some sexy postures, then drew her 
attention to the panties.

Kicking a leg up to rest her foot on a nearby chair, Swimmer showed me 
that her panties were dark with moisture at the crotch.  She traced a 
finger up a thigh and sampled the dew that was collected there.  She 
licked her finger off, then removed her leg from the chair.  Standing 
straight, she hooked her thumbs into the sides of her panties, and 
rolled the top half-inch of material down her body.  She placed one hand 
over her pussy, and the other hand on her behind, and rolled the panties 
down a little more.  She took her hand away, and I could see a tuft of 
blonde pubic hair peeking out over the top.  She continued to dance, 
pausing now and again to roll down her panties, until she had rolled 
them into a pair of loops around her legs and her bush was completely 
exposed.  At this point she turned around, grabbed the sides of her 
panties, and bent over quickly, pulling them down her legs.  She stepped 
out of the panties and posed as the song finished, ending the 
striptease.

I clapped and stood up.  "Thank you Swimmer.  That was very sexy."  She 
smiled at me, breathing heavily from arousal and exertion.  I took her 
hand and put it on my bulge.  "You see that you have made me very 
horny."  "Thank you, sir.  I was hoping the dance would turn you on."  I 
put a hand to Swimmer’s chest, feeling her heart pound beneath her 
breast.  "Why don’t we go into the bedroom to relieve my tension?"

Swimmer followed me in.  "Take off my pants, please."  She got down on 
her knees and pulled off the jeans as I fished in my drawer for a 
condom.  "I’m on the pill, sir."  "I believe in double-dutch.  And don’t 
contradict me."  "Sorry sir."  I didn’t want any trouble from getting 
some strange girl pregnant.  Who would believe the situation?

I stepped out of my jeans and Swimmer pulled down my briefs as I rolled 
the condom on.  "You don’t want me to suck it first, sir?"  "I’ve 
already sampled your mouth, and it was very nice.  Now I’d like to 
sample your cunt.  Up on the bed, please."  Swimmer climbed up on the 
bed and spread her legs as I tested to make sure she was wet enough to 
begin.  Her cleft was damp with dew, and I slid an experimental finger 
slowly inside of her to test her inner walls.  She was hot and slick, 
and when I crooked my finger slightly, she clamped down on me as she 
gasped aloud.  I was ready to begin.  I climbed on top of her, and 
positioned myself at her lips.  "Are you ready for me, Swimmer?"  "Yes, 
sir.  Please put it in me."

I pushed forward, and she let me in, sliding over my penis like hot oil.  
I started to fuck her slowly, and she clenched her vaginal muscles, 
trying to keep me in when I pulled out.  The lubrication from the condom 
added to her slickness, and I started moving faster.  Swimmer kept up 
with me, fucking back when I plunged in and clamping down when I drew 
out.  I increased the pace, and she stopped trying to keep up.  Instead, 
she relaxed and gave herself over to the pleasure as I fucked her cunt.  
She grew tighter, and let out a whine as she had a powerful orgasm.  I 
kept thrusting as best I could into her tight pussy, and soon I was on 
the verge as well.  "I’m about to come, Swimmer."  She reached around me 
and began to stroke my balls as I started my orgasm.  As I went over the 
edge, she squeezed gently, and I filled the condom with a yell as orgasm 
overtook me.  As I continued to spurt, I slowed down, until I was moving 
gently inside of her with the full condom.

"Thank you, Swimmer."  "Thank *you*, sir."  I pulled out of her 
carefully, then went to the bathroom and flushed the condom.  I came 
back to the bed and we drifted off to sleep, dreaming of what we would 
do on Sunday.